BLAZE: Enemies to Lovers College Hockey Romance

by Eddie Cleveland

After the entire bus empties, I get off. Guys who usually can’t shut up for ten seconds are now marching wordlessly to the locker room. When Coach Wilson follows them in, it’s usually my cue to go find my seat, or at least go load up on pre-game snacks. Not today. I couldn’t eat anything if I wanted to. Not with all this guilt churning in my stomach.

  I pace the floor, waiting. I know he’s giving them a good speech from the cheers. They get louder and wilder until the locker room sounds like it might explode. When the door flings open, it sounds like the coach is narrowly escaping a lion’s den at dinner time.

  “Prissy? Is there something you need?”

  He looks so happy. It twists the guilt inside me tighter. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut.

  “No, why?” I lie.

  “You don’t usually wait outside the locker room.”

  Integrity. It’s a word I don’t get to hold onto anymore if I can’t tell the truth.

  “Actually…” I try to spit the words out before I’m too cowardly to speak them. “There is something I need to talk to you about.”

  “I figured. Go ahead. My ear is yours to bend, but we gotta talk and move.” He starts walking, and I try to keep pace. He’s fast for a guy his age.

  “I wanted to talk to you about my job,” I start. But it’s not really about my job. It’s about Blaze. I just can’t find the words to say it.

  “Yeah, this is it, huh? One more game to get through, and you’re a free woman.” He laughs. “I would be happy to be a reference for you or write you a letter of recommendation. You didn’t have an easy task keeping Blaze reigned in. The difference I’ve seen in him has been nothing short of remarkable. That’s because of you.” His eyes are soft. His smile, kind.

  “I don’t know about that,” I begin, but Coach Wilson holds up his hand.

  “Have you ever raised chickens, Ms. Stevens?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Well, if you get them as chicks, you can never be totally sure if you’ve got a female or male, not until you wake up one day and hear the most pathetic noise. They crow like a rusty gate. That’s like these guys. They come in like little puffed up roosters. Sometimes I get to watch them grow and develop into a player that really has something to crow about.”

  We are at the edge of the ice, and Coach Wilson gets in the players’ box. “Come on in. You’ve earned your spot here.”

  “Coach, I think I’ve made some mistakes, blurring that line between professionalism and personal.”

  “You can never completely separate the two, Priscilla. Professionally, you helped raise a good rooster. Anything else that happened, personally,” - he lowers his voice - “I don't care.”

  Did he hire me because he thought I’d be the best at this job? Or the best for Blaze? I realize that he knows. The guys come out, and I go take a seat. Coach Wilson says I raised a good rooster, and I think Blaze would agree. He’d definitely say I’ve raised his cock.

  The game is fast, exciting and passes quickly. Canuck has only let in one goal. The bad news is, that’s the exact same amount the other goalie let in too. They’re tied, and there isn’t much time left in the game. Whoever takes the next point wins. If no one scores, it’s going to be decided in a sudden death shoot-out.

  I cheer when Blaze gets the puck. He takes it up ice like a rocket; his speed is really incredible. He gets to the end of the ice with the puck, but there’s no shot for him. He doubles back and flings it over to Player. It works! Player slides it right between the goalie’s legs for the winning goal.

  I shriek, but you can’t hear it because the entire arena is doing the same. I rush down to the players’ box and out onto the ice. Blaze skates over to me. He grabs the sides of my face and kisses me hard. “I love you.” He says it, and I blank out. Just blinking. Like he stole all my words with his kiss.

  “I love you too.” They tumble out of my mouth. Blaze kisses me again, and I swear everything around us stops making noise.

  “Hey, Blaze,” Player interrupts and forces the world to exist again.

  “Yeah?” he answers, looking over at his team captain.

  “You killed it out there. You kept your word, man.” He pats his hockey glove on top of Blaze’s helmet, and they both give each other a quick hug that looks more like they’re trying to stop a fire from spreading across each other’s jerseys.

  Player skates off and Blaze slides his arm across my shoulder. It feels nice to be out in the open, no longer hiding our love in the shadows. It feels great to be honest.

  “Congratulations on your brand new relationship.” Coach Wilson walks over and gives us a wink.

  “Thank you.” I laugh.

  Blaze nods, picking up his meaning right away. “Thanks, Coach,” he answers. He pulls me into him closer and whispers in my ear, “You’re not my dirty little secret anymore.”

  31

  Epilogue

  Blaze

  I hold Prissy against my chest. It feels so good to be able to spend nights in my room whenever the fuck we feel like it. Prissy’s house is still usually off limits more than on, and that’s why she’s been spending most of her nights here since we won the tournament.

  I run my fingers through her dark hair and down her exposed shoulder. She’s got the rest of her body hidden under the sheets with me. “Fuck you’re beautiful,” I murmur and rest my head on hers.

  “Save your flattery… we already did it twice. I need to get up and pee already.” She smiles, rolling back a bit.

  I kiss her forehead. “I’m not trying to fuck you again. I’m serious.”

  Prissy tilts her head back until she can look into my eyes. “Well, thank you.” She blushes when she sees the sincerity in them. “But I still seriously need to get up,” she whispers.

  “Yeah, it’s after ten. If I don’t get up and start packing soon, it’ll be another day of getting nothing done.” I gaze around my room. I’ve barely started packing my things up, and it’s moving week. Hector House has to be cleared out in a few days, but I’ve really been dragging my ass.

  “Exactly.” Prissy tosses off the covers and reveals us both in our naked glory.

  Slipping my eyes down over her body, I’m starting to think a third time isn’t out of the question after all. Apparently, my cock is addicted to Prissy’s pussy. I’m not sure that there’s a twelve-step program that can help him.

  She doesn’t make a fuss about my body being on display. She’s already out of my bed and putting clothes on. I reluctantly get up too, putting on some underwear I pull out of my dresser. There are no clean jeans, so I sniff a couple of pairs and pick the one that smells the least like my hockey bag.

  “Are you nervous about going home?” She hooks her bra and quickly pulls a shirt on.

  “No, why?”

  “Because, you haven’t been packing,” she points out the obvious. My room looks pretty much the exact same as the first time she saw it.

  “No, it’s not that. I guess I’m not really excited to head off to hockey camp,” I admit. Now it’s my turn to pull on a shirt and her turn to get her pants on.

  “Yeah, I’m going to miss you.” She tilts her head.

  “It’s only two weeks. Then we’ll have the rest of the summer together,” I reassure.

  “True. And, then I get to finally meet your parents,” she reminds me. Again.

  “Hopefully I can make a better first impression on them than you did with my mother.” She cocks her eyebrow.

  “Hey, if you want to walk in on my Dad getting out of the shower, be my guest. I should warn you though, he’s got a ball sack like a leather purse.”

  Prissy laughs. “What? Why would you even know that?” She shakes her head, and her dark hair sways under her chin. I like her hair down. She looks more free.

  “I came back from hockey camp early one year.” I shudder at the image seared into my mind. I should probably go see a hypnotist or at least a therapist and get that shit wiped out of there. “My parents weren’t expecting me h
ome, and I found them skinny dipping in the pool. Now, I call like eighteen times before I show up there. Fuck.” Another shudder possesses me. “I hope that’s not genetic.”

  Tha-Thump! Clunk! Crash!

  It sounds like someone just took a header down the stairs. I rush out of my room to see one of those blue Rubbermaid tote boxes has spewed its guts all over our foyer floor. Rookie is picking up his stuff.

  “No, don’t worry guys. I’m not broken. Or dead,” he yells out. Even though I can see he’s fine, I head down to give him a hand.

  There are a lot of books splayed all over the floor and some random hockey gear, with unopened skate laces and rolls of tape sprinkled in. None of those are what catch my attention though.

  “Got some big plans for summer?” I gaze over the crazy number of condoms that dumped out with the other stuff. It looks like a fucking piñata exploded, but it was filled with nothing but condoms. All different kinds and crazy colors. Ones with lubricants. Ones with flavors. Ones that promise to turn your cock into a glowing lightsaber.

  Griz walks in from the kitchen. His mouth is stuffed with a hotdog in a bun. The last bite is sticking out of his face.

  “What the fuck?” He looks around and picks up on the same thing I did. “Are you going to an orgy, man?”

  Griz and I help Rookie get everything back in his tote.

  “No, this box is for next year. I was thinking I’d store it in the closet in my new room. There’s no point in dragging it home for summer.”

  “Whoa, cool your jets, Rookie.” Griz swallows the last bite of his “balanced breakfast” and frowns at him. “I’m not even moved out yet, man. And you can’t leave that stuff here over summer. If you could, we wouldn’t have moving day,” he explains.

  Rookie looks disappointed. “Oh.”

  “Don’t sweat it, man. In a few months it’ll be all yours. Come on, want a hotdog?” Griz leads him into the kitchen.

  Prissy stands at the top of the stairs looking very amused. I’m giving her the same look back, but not because of the condom fiasco. She just looks so fucking cute with her hair all mussed up and that sparkle in her eyes.

  “Want to get some breakfast?” I wait for her at the bottom of the stairs until she walks down beside me.

  “I’d love to.” She smiles. She stands up on her toes and gives me a peck on the cheek that I’ll never admit how much I love.

  Griz and Rookie are eating hotdogs while Hattie finishes off a bowl of cereal and walks it to the sink. I still don’t know how you can eat that at ten in the morning.” She shakes her head.

  “Haven’t you ever had fried bologna for breakfast? It’s pretty much the same as that,” Griz answers.

  “I have, but I’ve never rolled up a piece of fried bologna, stuffed it in a hotdog, poured a bunch of ketchup and mustard over it and called that my morning meal.” She nods at him.

  “Well, then, you’re missing out.” Griz shrugs and keeps eating.

  Over in the corner, Etta is sitting on the counter looking at her phone while Gucci slathers some cream cheese on a bagel.

  “I’ve got some granola bars and there’s some yogurt in the fridge.” I open my cupboard and pull out the ones with chocolate and salt on them.

  Prissy grabs us a couple individual sized cups of coffee-flavored yogurt from the fridge and comes back to join me at the counter. We both peel the tops off our cups and dip our bars in.

  Hattie doesn’t look any more impressed with our breakfast choices. She doesn’t say anything though. Either because she figures we’re not her problem or because Canuck just walked in from the back deck with his phone pressed into his ear.

  Everyone kinda keeps it down as he talks to whoever is on the other side.

  “Yeah, they changed my flight. I’m getting into Ottawa at two now, so I’m just calling an Uber... No. No fucking way. Don’t wait around for me at two in the morning. That’s crazy.” Canuck pauses and looks around the kitchen, realizing what a big audience he has. “No, listen. The flight could get delayed. I’ll just see you the next day... Okay! Okay. You don’t need to threaten the family jewels for every little thing…” He laughs. “I’ll see you at two then. I can’t wait either. Bye.”

  Canuck hangs up and shoves his phone in his pants pocket and looks around the room.

  “What?” He looks at us suspiciously.

  “Was that Camille?” Hattie smiles.

  “Who’s Camille?” Etta looks up from her phone.

  “Remember? I told you about her. It’s Canuck’s best friend. She’s in Canada,” Hattie reminds her.

  “Right, right. Did you hear about Canuck’s friend?” she asks Gucci.

  “Nope. Not interested. Not invested.” He shakes his head. Chomping into his bagel.

  Gucci looks across the room. “Griz, do you have room for a couple more swag boxes in your car?”

  “Man, how many are you bringing?” Griz asks.

  “It’s for the kid’s camp. What do you want me to do? Disappoint the children?” Gucci answers himself before eating the rest of his bagel.

  Griz looks like he’s done stuffing his face with hotdogs because he leads Gucci out to his Escalade to see if they can pack it tighter.

  I’m finished with my granola and yogurt dip and so is Prissy. “Here, I’ll throw them out.” I take the trash from her and walk it over. Going home isn’t as big of a journey for me. It’s basically a half hour drive out of the city. I grew up in this town, and I’d like to die in it.

  Like Logan.

  The thought busts into my mind, and I frown. I’ve been thinking about him less lately. Well, not less, but differently. I used to only think about the void he left in my life. In my heart. I walk back over to Prissy. Her smile is like a lifeline that pulls me from the choppy waters splashing over my face. The void is still there, and it still hurts, but I spend time thinking about Logan’s death differently now. Most of the time, I find myself wishing he could see me now. I think he’d be proud of how my life is turning out. Who knows, maybe he can.

  “Donuts!” The front door flings open and Kaylee walks inside singing her announcement.

  Player is right behind her, carrying a big box of Dunkin’ Donuts. They bring them over and put them on the counter once they get their winter coats and boots off.

  “Fuck yeah.” I move in, grabbing my absolute favorite. Chocolate iced. Cream filled.

  Prissy gets one. Even Hattie does, apparently forgetting her own breakfast rules.

  “Did I just see donuts go by?” Griz barges in the front door.

  He and Gucci race to get their boots off to see who can get into the kitchen first. Griz beats him to the box by a fraction of a second and scoops up two.

  “Here’s to enjoying the off-season.” Kaylee holds up a donut with sprinkles like she’s giving a toast.

  “Oh, I will,” Canuck answers like she was talking just to him.

  “Come on, you can’t leave me with lemon and blueberry, and you get both types of strawberry,” Gucci complains.

  “Watch me.” Griz walks away with his score.

  “I’m going to get off-season fat.” Canuck slaps his hands on his stomach and arches his back, trying to show off the gut he doesn’t have. “Camille always makes me a tourtière when I come back.” He looks like he might drool all over himself.

  “What’s that?” Griz talks around the entire donut he shoved in his face.

  Gucci eats his blueberry-filled one like it’s a punishment.

  “It’s a big old French Canadian meat pie, but it melts in your mouth. It’s so good.” Canuck explains.

  Griz looks over at Gucci and sighs. He takes the lemon donut from his hand and replaces it with the last strawberry donut.

  Gucci nods at him, and they both eat the last two powdered donuts in silence.

  “Sounds good. You should eat it with those gravy cheese fries you love so much,” Player suggests.

  “Poutine and tourtière? Stop! I can only get so turned on.” Canu
ck laughs. Fuck, I do too. We all do. The guy is a fucking clown.

  “You should bring us one when we come back next year. I wanna try one.” Griz never stops thinking about his stomach. He’s already thinking about how to feed it next year.

  “Yeah, I want to give that a try too,” Rookie pitches in.

  “Add it to your list,” Canuck fires back. Rookie looks down when we have a chuckle at his expense. Prissy nudges me, and I stop.

  “Can you guys believe next year’s our last one?” Kaylee, looks at Player.

  There’s no laughter now. It’s more like the kind of silence you’d hear at a wedding. Or a funeral.

  “Not for me,” Rookie interrupts our silence with the obvious.

  “No man, you’re just getting started. I remember when we were there,” Player muses. “Fuck, I remember the first time I met you,” he says to Blaze. “I remember thinking you were a dick, but then I saw you play. I was like, ‘strap some skates on some cocks, because I didn’t know dicks could play that good.’”

  That cracks everyone back up. I smirk back at him. “So nothing has really changed then, huh?”

  “No, it has.” Player gets serious and looks me in the eyes. “You’re better now.”

  “At what part? Hockey? Or about being a dick?”

  “Both.”

  Well, fuck. If all these eyes weren’t watching us, I’d probably give the guy a hug right now. Instead, I give him a nod. He gives me one back and it’s our unspoken understanding. We’re good again.

  Canuck has to be the one to interrupt, of course. “Fuck, I’d tell those guys to get a room, but we all know how that worked out with you two.” He nods at me and Prissy. “I don’t think you’d appreciate the competition.” He looks over to Kaylee.

  The girls laugh, and the room goes back to normal. Canuck is good at that.

  I thought I lost my only brother when we buried Logan. Turns out, I had four more waiting for me. Five if you include Rookie. And, I do.

  Being on the right track feels a lot better than I thought it could. Maybe it has something to do with it guiding my train to Prissy’s tunnel so often. Maybe it’s because I love her.